Chance Meetings
by To Thine Own Self Be True101
Summary: He'd met her before he was sure of it. He'd seen Emily Prentiss in the streets of Chicago in the summer 1985, she was a tornado then, she's a tornado now. They were both in pain and as it turns out it takes less then 24 hours to fall head over heels in love with someone. Even when you're fifteen.
1. Derek

**I hope everyone likes this. Though the story is Demily I focus more on Derek's family then Emily's, though Emily's past is mentioned more. Also a warning there is mention of physical and sexual abuse along with anorexia. Just thought I should mention that before we got started. **

**Also Betaing credit goes to RealMe07, she did a wonderful job fixing the little problems with this story. So a special thanks to her. **

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Chance Meetings

When she first walked into the BAU he thought he knew her, those dark eyes and that raven hair. It had been years since he'd seen it but he was sure he'd seen them. Then when Hotch introduced them it clicked. He knew and recognized her but she clearly didn't know who he was. He remembered when he'd run into her – literally – all those years before…

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"Ah!" The thing he'd hit gave a small scream, as he knocked it to the ground.

"What are you doing here?" He a frowned, picking the football up from the ground and getting of the thing which he saw now was a girl.

"I could say the same for you." The girl coughed, standing up. He saw now why she'd put up so little resistance and why he'd almost crushed her. She was incredibly small, so small he could clearly see all her bones, her leg bones sticking out in a bird like fashion from the too big shorts, the skinny twiggish arms that protruded from her boney shoulders and tank top. He was certain that if he were to lift her tank top enough he could count her ribs. Every one of them.

"This is the youth center, I play football here." He explained

"This is the youth center?" She raised one of her raven eyebrows.

"Yeah, why?" he frowned, sure the youth center was falling apart, the uniforms were mix and match, and the building was mostly an old warehouse, oh and that little detail of the coach being a child molester but if you could forget all that it wasn't so bad.

"I thought it was condemned." She coughed again.

"Are you okay?" A voice said from behind him, he turned and saw Carl Buford running towards them having seen the exchange.

"Coach Buford this is – um, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. I'm Emily Prentiss, Mr. Buford; I'm here to inquire about the ballet class." She coughed again hold out one boney hand to the coach.

"Damn," Derek said. "You really aren't from around here are you?"

"No I'm not I'll only be here for a week but I need to take a ballet class." She pushed.

"Well Emily, this is Derek Morgan and there hasn't been a ballet class here since 1978." Coach Buford explained.

"Besides I don't think you need a ballet class, what you need is a good meal." Derek frowned.

"Nonsense I had two pieces of cheese for lunch." She said. "Can I please practice here Mr. Buford?"

"Well Emily I'd have to call your mom first and make sure she knows where you are, what hotel are you at?" Coach Buford asked.

"Um, I-I'll just be here for one day, and I don't know the number to the hotel." She frowned.

"Well practice is just about over. Derek how about you take her to your house and have your mother look up the hotel number in the phone book?"

"Yes sir." Derek said. "Come on, Emily." He sighed and led her across the lawn and started to take off his gear. He decided to just walk home in shorts because he didn't want to go into the locker room for his shirt and leave this frail girl alone with Carl Buford.

He looked her skinny body over and asked. "What kinda lunch is two pieces of cheese?"

"My lunch." She said matter-of-factly. "Why does it matter?"

"Because even I have more lunch then that, and the school here doesn't have the best lunch, neither does the youth center." He shrugged. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Starving." She nodded, throwing her back pack over one shoulder as they rounded the corner onto the street.

He grinned. "Good, stay for dinner- Mama's home tonight, she's makin' chicken for us; it's some of the best food in the world."

"No thanks." She said politely.

"Well you wouldn't be imposing or nothin' Mama loves having people over to eat her cooking and there's even peach cobbler!" He frowned.

"No thanks; I can stay but I won't eat." She said.

"Why not, you just said you were starving?" He frowned, and half-heartedly waved to Laurence, the convenience store owner.

"Yeah I am but I can't eat." She gave him a look that said 'what are you stupid or something?'

"What kinda logic is that? Of course you can eat, you have to. You'll die if you don't." He said.

"Well I'm not dead yet am I? Besides I'll get fat if I eat." She confessed.

"You?! Naw, you won't get fat if you eat, you're the skinniest person I've ever seen." He frowned.

"Thanks, but I can't eat. Ballet dancers have to be skinny. Besides if I'm not skinny no one will pay me any mind." She said.

He sighed, there was no convincing this girl, was there? She looked about 12 but her language skills made him think she was around his age maybe a little older. He opened the door. "Mama, this is Emily."

"Derek where'd you find her?" His mother smiled. "Hello Emily."

"Hello Ma'am." Emily smiled politely.

"She showed up at the Youth Center for the not there Ballet Class and she doesn't know her hotel number." He explained.

"Well hang on I'll call you're hotel sweet heart, what's the name?" His Mama asked Emily picking up the phone book and looking over Emily's skinny form.

"The Hilton Inn." She said.

"Okay well I'll go call, what's your last name?" Mama asked.

"Prentiss, ask for Ambassador Prentiss." She smiled.

"Ambassador, you're the Ambassador to Italy's daughter?" His mother asked.

"Y-yes Ma'am, she doesn't know I'm gone yet. We're only in Chicago for a week and I read about a Ballet class at the youth center and went to check it out." Emily looked away.

"Okay, I'll talk to your mother." She smiled, giving her a motherly pat on the shoulder, and feeling her heart sink at the thinness. "Just hang on."

The girl sat down on the couch next to Sarah and Desiree, who looked at her like she was some kind of walking skeleton, which she kind of was, I'd never seen anyone that small.

"Emily dear, your mother will be here in a few hours, would you like to stay for dinner?" Mama asked.

"Sure, but I've already had two pieces of cheese for lunch today."

"Yeah Mama, a whole two pieces." Derek said sarcastically.

"Don't be sarcastic, Derek and Emily that's no lunch that's a snack." Mama smiled.

"No, it's fine I can't eat." Emily smiled.

"Why not sweetheart?"

"Because Ballet dancers have to stay skinny." She explained.

"Honey, its fine if you eat one meal, promise me you'll try it?" Mama asked.

"Okay Mrs. Morgan I'll try it…" She sighed.

"Good, now Derek you go get in the shower, Desiree you and Sara be nice to Emily." Mama said.

Derek walked down the hall to the bathroom and pulled off his clothes and turned the shower on. As the shower heated up he glanced in the mirror trying to avoid looking at the bruises on his lower body, bruises that weren't from football.

He stepped into the shower and felt the hot water coursing over his body, he felt every muscle loosen and relax. After five minutes of just standing there, he started to wash and his mind wandered to his strange new acquaintance. He'd gotten the impression that she was used to wandering around cities by herself and finding places to take ballet. He'd also gotten the impression Chicago wasn't the most dangerous place she'd wandered.

Though he wasn't entirely sure what her mother had done, Mama sure knew who she was. The title Ambassador made him think that Emily must have enough to eat she just chose not to, and that she was probably spoiled, the polar opposite of him. She was beautiful though, her raven hair long, down to her elbows and her eyes had a sparkle in them when she talked.

Damn, he shouldn't have let his thoughts wander there, now he had to take a cold shower. He sighed and changed the temperature to cold. After a few minutes everything calmed down and he stepped out of the shower and got dressed. When he went back to the living room Emily was sitting at the very out of tune piano attempting to play something.

"If only I had my piano book, I can play the birthday song in Russian." She smiled.

"Russian?" Derek frowned.

"Yeah we lived in the Soviet Union before this." Emily explained.

"Do you speak Russian?" He asked.

"Yes, I went to a Soviet school while we lived there, I did ballet there." She nodded.

"Bet it was better than the youth center." Derek muttered.

"No, there was no heating in the studio, and the regulations aren't the same as they are here, its where I got these." Emily lifted her shirt revealing large blisters, bruises, cuts and worst of all as his eyes traveled up and settled on her rib cage he saw it protruded more than her stomach.

"Damn…" Derek breathed. "Did you do that to yourself?"

Emily looked away. "No… If we messed up we got hit."

"And the cuts?"

She looked around to make sure no one else was with in ear shot as she pulled her top down. "I got those from the ice, I was the only American they would throw ice at me."

"The blisters?"

"Oh, those are from my leotard, it's too small. They're okay." She shrugged.

"Damn girl, you might just have it worse than I do." He breathed. "Why do you do it?"

She looked away from him her eyes becoming sad but her expression hard. "Because Ambassador says that ballet is beautiful and I'm beautiful so I have to do ballet."

"You don't tell her about what happens to you do you?" He whispered.

"No I don't. Just like you don't tell your mother what your coach does to you." She said.

"H-how did you –"It was his turn to look away.

"Because you didn't go with the other boys to the locker room, you're distant from the coach and seemed a bit afraid of him, everyone there did." She whispered, taking his hand. "I know what it's like, believe me I know."

"No, you have physical abuse." He whispered.

"Derek, believe it or not I've seen the sexual abuse too." She whispered.

"How did you know it was that?" He asked.

"I guessed mostly, but the way you backed up made me think of it like you were protecting your lower body not your upper body, I've seen boys do that before, girls to." She whispered, squeezing his hand tightly.

"That why you're so thin?" HE whispered.

"No, I'm thin because I'm sick. I have Anorexia. It's not so much a physical illness as a psychological one, but let me tell you it's not easy to live with or get over. I-I'm being sent away for it." She said looking down at the one hand in her lap.

"Where you going?" He asked.

"England; to a special hospital there." She explained. "They say I'll come back in a few months and be all better but I don't think so. I want to get better and I've tried but I can't seem to do it."

"You'll be okay, and so will I. We'll both be just fine." He brushed a bit of hair out of her eyes. "Promise me you'll eat something at dinner?"

"I promise I'll try." She muttered. "Promise you won't make me?"

"Promise." He chuckled.

"Derek! Emily! Dinner's bout ready!" Mama called from the kitchen. Derek stood up and led Emily by the hand into the dining room. She sat next to him.

"Take as much as you like." He smiled. She took a plate and as the food was passed around she took a little bit of everything, just the tiniest bit but it was a start.

He watched her eat out of the corner of his eye and each bite seemed to be a battle of wills, like she was fighting with the monster inside her and she was determined to win. He discreetly squeezed her hand under the table, hoping it reassured her. She smiled weakly as she finally got all the food down. It hadn't been much but it was more than two pieces of cheese, at least.

After dinner there was a knock on the door. "Emily, your mother's here."

"H-hello mother." Emily said weakly.

"Emily, what do you think you were doing wandering off like that?" Her mother said harshly.

"I was going to take a ballet class." Emily said, narrowing her dark eyes.

"Ballet class, you don't need it right now what you need is some food." Her mother snapped.

"No Ma'am, she ate with us." Derek spoke up, feeling the need to defend his new friend.

"She ate?" The Ambassador turned to him.

"Yes Ma'am she did I watched her." Derek straightened up.

"Well then, come on Emily lets go." Her mother ordered.

"I'll be out in a minute mother." Emily said. "I just have to grab my back pack." As she walked passed Derek she whispered. "I'll be at the youth center tomorrow at six." Then she was gone.

The next day he found himself anticipating her arrival, he arrived almost half an hour early and was elated when a car drove up and dropped her off. When he saw she was dressed for travel his face fell.

"Are you leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah Ambassador wants to get me to England faster, she wants me home as soon as possible." She whispered. "I have to give you something before I go, though."

"What is it?" He asked. He barely had time to finish his question before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

"That. Thank you for being so kind to me. I'll miss you, Derek Morgan." She whispered.

"I'll miss you too." He smiled.

"It's odd isn't it? I've only known you for a day but I feel like it's been forever." She blinked back tears.

"Hey now, why are you crying? It's okay. I know how that feels I feel like I've known you forever, too." He whispered.

The car honked and Emily turned. "I have to go. G-goodbye."

"Good bye, Emily Prentiss." He muttered as she turned and raced back to the car.

After a few minutes he turned and spotted Desiree. "What is a boy like you doing with a girl like her?"

"You just wait Des, I'm gunna marry her someday." He swore.

"Sure you will and I'll be a professional soccer player." Desiree turned and walked away.

"You just wait." He muttered, staring back in the direction she'd gone. "Damn, she's like a tornado that one. Comes right in, tares you up and leaves."


	2. Emily

**This is the end of my two-shot, and its in Emily's PoV so we get in here head quiet a bit. I hope you enjoy the conclusion. **

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Two

EMILY

When Emily first saw Derek at work she wasn't sure he recognized her, but she remembered him. She'd met him in Chicago and given him her first kiss, even if it was only to piss off her mother. She wouldn't deny that she'd been drawn to him. But did he remember her? She remember what she thought in the hotel room after their meeting…

All the way home from Derek's house the first day Emily was lectured about "Playing with street rats" She sighed, there was no winning with her mother was there? She'd tried everything but it didn't work.

"I'm sorry Mother it won't happen again." She sighed.

"You're right it won't happen again Emily! Street rats like him are exactly the reason you have this problem!" Her mother huffed.

Emily stayed quiet but in her mind she was always saying 'No mother its your fault I'm like this.' But she knew that she couldn't say that it would only get her into more trouble. She sighed and looked at the dirty Chicago streets as they drove by.

Part of her wondered why Derek let the abuse go on and part of her knew, because it was his only way out. She knew the feeling, she'd spent years enduring the emotional trauma inflicted by her mother's harsh words and her father's rocky relationship with her mother. She'd also spent years dealing with the physical abuse in her ballet classes around the world, in places where child welfare wasn't great if it even existed at all. She knew how he felt, he felt helpless and scared.

How long had this been going on for him? Did he know how to handle it? Abuse was something Emily spent most of her life watching. She remembered being four and a half and in ballet in Bulgaria, a little boy in her class had made a mistake and was taken out of the room, when he returned five minutes later he had red marks along his arms. When she'd asked him what happened to him he whispered. "Don't make a mistake, the stick is to hit you with." It was the first time she'd seen it but it wasn't the last.

After her recent time in the Ukraine she as ready to just give up, give in, and call it quits but she knew her mother wouldn't heat of it, she wouldn't have heard of it when Emily was four and she wouldn't hear of it now. She never told her mother about the chunks of ice, she'd always claimed she slipped, but that was never the truth and had her mother spend any time with her she would've known that.

They'd called her names, she didn't even know what most of the names meant but she knew they couldn't be good. One she did know, and was called often was "Американский сука", American bitch. She hated being called that, it was a constant reminder that she wasn't part of them.

On the embassy hadn't been any better the other kids called her "Commie lover" a constant reminder she didn't belong there either. She didn't fit in anywhere, not with her fellow ballet students and not with her fellow school students. She was determined to fit in when they moved to Italy, no matter what it took.

When they arrived at the hotel Emily went into her room and her mother into the one across the hall.

Emily ran the shower making it as hot as it would go, before pulling her clothes off, she stared at her naked body in the mirror for a few minutes. Was it truly as thin as Derek said? If it truly was as thin as he claimed is that why Mrs. Morgan had seemed so sad when she patted her shoulder?

She stepped under the steaming water and scrubbed her pale skin until it was red, after a day of wandering the streets looking for Ballet class she had collected quiet a lot of dirt and being knocked to the ground had only made her dirtier, and Emily hated to be dirty. She looked over her abdomen gently cleaning the fading cuts from her last week in the Soviet Union, one she still had to keep bandaged at times. She sighed she would never forget what happened there.

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her small frame, collected her clothes and left the bathroom. When she let body fall as she stood in front of the full length mirror she sighed sadly; her stomach was bulging again.

"Note to self: eat less, you're getting fat again." She sighed, poking at her stomach, everyone told her she was thin, too thin but she didn't see it that way, she was fat, too fat. She sighed, she knew what she should do, and she tied her hair back and went into the bathroom. She knelt over the toilet and stuck her fingers in her mouth, pushing them as far back as they would go. She felt the familiar gagging sensation and then up it came, she removed her fingers just in time as her meager meal came back up.

She flushed the toilet and sat back on her heels sobbing uncontrollably. She reached one shaky hand up to the edge of the bathtub were the razor sat. She looked at it shakily and put it to her thigh, before she could cut into her skin she stopped. "No." She said allowed. "I'm not going to give in to that. I will not give it that satisfaction."

There was a knock at the door and Emily opened it. "Mother?"

"Hello Emily, we will be leaving at 7pm for the airport tomorrow, I will take you to see that street rat to say goodbye to the street rat you befriended." She said promptly.

"Okay Mother." Emily closed the door. "I'm fine thanks for asking." She muttered as a second thought. Pulling her bathrobe off, she crawled into bed and flicked off the light. "Note to self: Kiss street rat to piss off mother." And fell asleep.

The next day she got up, had two pieces of celery from her breakfast tray and lay in bed, until noon. At noon she got out of bed and pulled a comfortable yet cute sundress and hat. After brushing through her hair she packed her suit case and made sure her Unaccompanied Minor tag was on her jacket.

When the car pulled up to the youth center she saw Derek was already waiting, wearing virtually the same thing he had the day before. Emily ran up to Derek and kissed him, she'd been doing it to anger her mother, but she hadn't expected the deep burning desire to keep kissing him. She pulled back, thanked him and was gone.

Six months later when she was in a closet, at a party, in Rome, with John Cooley she'd completely forgotten about Derek Morgan, Street rat, abused boy, first kiss…


End file.
